Coffee and Strangers
by janie17
Summary: "How do you explain to him that coffee and strangers saved you from numbness?" One-shot.


AN: What I should be doing is any of the school essays due soon, or finishing "Beginnings" but this happened instead. I got the idea for this last night while I was reading an essay online and it used the line "How do you explain to him that coffee and strangers saved you from numbness?" It really screamed Ianto to me and I just really had to write something, so I hope you enjoy!

Also I played around with a different writing style, so I don't make any promises about this being good. It just really wanted to be written.

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or its characters. But if I did….well, let's just leave it at that…

Also, the quote that inspired this is from "Learning to Be with Someone after You Just Figured out How to Be Alone" by Heidi Liu.

* * *

Ianto vaguely listened as Jack spoke, nodding and murmuring in all the right places. The captain was saying how he looked forward to actually getting to know each other; that he should have recognised right away how special he was—to him, to Torchwood, to life. A few beers, it seemed, was all it took to loosen the man's tongue, at least a little bit. This made Ianto smile to himself, thinking that must be why he makes a point not to drink around the team.

What was Ianto's secret, Jack wondered, to staying so sane after everything? Canary Warf, Lisa, cannibals, hell, even his childhood, all of which were solid reasons on their own to go a little insane. This was where Ianto stopped listening.

He was trying very hard to come up with a good answer to the question. Simply telling the truth, that coffee and strangers had saved him, would beg further explanation. But what more was there to say? It was simply the presence of others, close enough to reach out to if he ever felt so inclined—and he often had, but simply didn't know how to—had kept him afloat. It wasn't a very conventional coping mechanism, but at least it was a hell of a lot saner, not to mention safer, one than most people develop.

It had really started when he was a child. When tensions were high in the Jones household his mother would brew coffee. It was only instant, and he was never allowed to drink it for _such things aren't for children, Ianto_, but it was the memory of the aroma that stuck with him. And after her death that habit of coffee-making passed to him, for there was no one to tell him he was too young anymore. Rhiannon was only a child herself, too young for the other responsibilities that she took on; and his father, well, he preferred not to think about his father. His actual father, not the fantasy father he occasionally would tell stories about who was a master tailor and extremely gentle man.

Coffee became a hobby to keep his mind clear, and by sixteen, a marketable skill. His first job, years before Torchwood would lay her claim on his life, was as a barista. But it was more than a job. It was an escape from home. To this day it was more likely than not that he could still make any beverage the little shop served with his eyes closed, working only from muscle memory. In that coffee-house he had learned how to detach himself from the chaos that surrounded him, keeping totally calm despite the massive amounts of caffeine he had consumed and that was sure to seep into his bloodstream through the coffee soaked air around him.

When there was a lull in the crowd, Ianto would make up stories in his head about the customers based off what they ordered. He enjoyed it, the stories he created. It was nice to have someone else's life to think about, other than his own.

After university, of course, Torchwood One had recruited him. With regret, it had seemed as if his coffee brewing days were behind him, except for what he made himself in the mornings. However, he happened upon a little used break room while searching for the men's room on his first day, and inside was an even more seldom used coffee maker, one of the big expensive kinds.

That was how he met Lisa, brewing coffee for his fellow archivist when she happened to walk in. He didn't need to make up stories about this stranger, as they were freely offered to him. But then, all too soon, she was gone, at least mostly, as was his job and everyone he knew at One, and he was back to making coffee for strangers for a living.

It was different, working all day, every day with the strangers he brewed coffee for, being included in actual conversations with them, but never once asked about himself. It hurt, but at least he felt some emotion, and feeling something was key to staying alive, he reminded himself. That emotional grip on things was in danger when he finally lost Lisa for good, the numbness he fought so hard against creeping up closer towards him.

But things had changed. Those strangers became his friends. Jack became his lover. The numbness, always in the back of his mind, began to finally diminish for good. He still made coffee, and still found comfort in it, but no longer needed it to survive each day.

But there was no way, or time, to fully explain all of this to Jack. He simply couldn't understand. _Are you still listening?_ the older man wonders, shaking Ianto from his thoughts. _No, sorry. Got lost in my head,_ he responds, humming in pleasure as the older man placed a gentle, teasing kiss on his lips, making some sort of joking remark about not letting it happen again.

_So,_ he heard him say, _I've done enough talking for a while, why don't you tell me about that key to sanity?_ Ianto sighed, warning him that it was likely to sound strange, maybe a little crazy. Jack reminded him that if anyone understood crazy, it was him. Pulling his feet onto the couch and settling closer to the man beside him, Ianto took a deep breath. He decided to go with the simple truth and see how things went from there.

Coffee and strangers had saved him from numbness.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Drop me a review and let me know what you thought!


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